


Surface Tension

by purplejellosg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Episode: s04e10 Beneath the Surface, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25714585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplejellosg1/pseuds/purplejellosg1
Summary: Post-ep for Beneath the Surface.
Relationships: Jonah/Thera (Stargate), Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 19
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

#

_His lips left hers and she drew in a breath, exhaled on a gasp as they travelled lower. His hands weren't idle, either, his calloused fingertips leaving no patch of skin untouched._

_She grasped at his shoulders, at the orange material of his shirt, tugging it up, needing to get her fill, needing to reciprocate the sensations he evoked in her._

_They couldn't undress, not fully. She knew that, understood it, but she mourned the lack of full contact she found herself longing for. She wanted to feel him, all of him, and she knew from the frustrated groan of the man mostly above and over her that he felt it, too._

_It was always the same when they got to be together like this, on those rare nights when the need became too much. They'd retreat to the quiet, secluded corner of the plant, away from prying eyes and security patrols. They lie behind the pipes on the blankets they'd managed to procure and their kisses would turn from sweet and soft to hurried and hungry in an instant._

_Desperate, needing._

_But quiet, always quiet. Their sighs were muted, moans muffled against mouths._

_It was simply how it had to be._

_Though she wasn't sure why it was wrong, she knew on some level that what they shared was forbidden. She worried about that on the nights that they couldn't be together, worried that something would happen and Jonah would be taken away from her._

_Sometimes she dreamt he had been._

_Sometimes she woke with a sob in her throat, certain that she'd lost him and no matter what she did, how hard she worked, she couldn't get him back._

_Other times he was there but they couldn't get to each other. There was something between them, something they couldn't see but couldn't breach._

_A barrier of some sorts._

_She woke up crying those mornings, too. Silently, as though she'd had plenty of practice at it._

_Thera tried not to let him see her first thing on those mornings, knowing he'd see through the bravado and fake smiles. This morning, as a matter of fact, had been one of them. It was why he'd suggested they sneak away for a little while, and why she'd been so willing to go along with him._

_She pulled his head back to hers, shifted her body restlessly beneath his. When his mouth returned to hers, she kissed him desperately before pulling away just enough to whisper against his lips. "Now, Jonah._ Please _."_

#

Later, he would ask her what she dreamed about that brought such sorrow to her eyes. He would listen as she described being with him but being unable to reach him. His brow would furrow and his mind would too easily supply him with the images her words conjured. He would see her in his mind's eye, those blue eyes of hers pleading with him.

He would feel the helplessness, the frustration.

The fear that he was losing her, too.

He would kiss her and taste the saltiness of tears on her lips. He would catch a tear with the pad of his thumb and wipe it away with a tenderness that only she brought out in him.

He would promise her that nothing would come between them.

In a matter of days, that promise would be broken, as would both of their hearts.

#

_"So… Colonel."_

_"Major."_

_"That bald man you were trying to remember…"_

_"General Hammond."_

_"Right."_

_"He's from Texas you know. It's all coming back."_

_"Yes, Sir."_

_"Sir… Let's go home."_

_"Yes, Sir."_

#

In her mind, she had to keep reiterating that he was Sir. Colonel. Colonel Jack O'Neill. Jack. Jonah.

No.

Jonah, and Jack, couldn't be. Though they were in her heart, she couldn't let them stay at the forefront of her mind.

Sam didn't delude herself into thinking it'd be easy, but she'd been counting on her returning memories being able to crowd out or at least push back those she'd made as Thera.

It was difficult, though. While not everything on P3R-118 had been bad, she thought it might've been easier if it had bene. The bad things – the lack of food and the manual labour, the close quarters and the noise and the scratchy clothes they'd been given to wear… They were things she could accept as a hazard of the job, a consequence of getting to do the extraordinary and travel through the galaxy.

The good memories, though... They were what stuck in her mind and made it impossible to sleep.

His smile, and his touch.

The warmth in his eyes as he halved his piece of bread with her and passed it across the table.

The familiar scent of him that even there her mind had associated with protection and comfort, love and safety.

And then there were the memories she tried so, so hard not to recall.

His taste on her tongue, his lips against hers.

His hands on her skin, the feel of his beneath her fingertips.

The way they moved so in sync, the way he fit her so perfectly.

How right it had felt; how in those moments, she felt like she was exactly where she belonged.

With him.

_His_.

But now they were home and she knew it was wrong. She couldn't be with him; she could no longer be his as he could be hers.

It was wrong, but it felt so right. Being apart, being unable to be with him, that was what felt wrong.

Whether he felt the same way or not, she couldn't be sure. He'd left as soon as they'd been cleared to do so, following their medicals and a brief briefing that promised to be no more than a prelude to a longer discussion over the coming days. Sam herself had stayed in the infirmary, needing to speak to Janet confidentially about what had happened during her time as Thera, and she'd wanted to check on Brenna, too.

Janet had completed the necessary tests with sympathy she couldn't speak aloud shining in her eyes, and Brenna had been confused but agreeable when Sam had asked her quietly not to mention any of the personal aspects of the relationships that had developed between SG-1 while they'd been victims of the memory stamp.

By the time she was ready to leave, Jack – the Colonel – had signed out a good hour before her.

Sam told herself she wasn't disappointed, and tried to convince herself it was a good thing he hadn't lingered. It would've been worse for both of them if he'd stayed. It would've been even harder for her to get into her car and drive back to her empty house if she'd known he felt the same reluctance to stay apart as she did.

Not that she allowed it to show; she'd had a long time perfecting that.

Even before the zatarc testing had confirmed her feelings were reciprocated, she'd had to work on making sure her feelings for her commanding officer weren't visible to anyone who cared to look. 100 days of working non-stop to bring him home from Edora had been a big enough of a giveaway, a neon sign if needed to highlight how much she needed him in her life. Fortunately, the General had seemed oblivious, and everyone else on base had seen her actions as that of an SG-member adhering to the 'no one gets left behind' rule that was of particular importance to the flagship team.

Pushing thoughts of that time from her mind, she sunk under the surface of the hot water in the bath until it reached her chin. It was a luxury she'd missed while on the ice planet, or at least something she would have missed if she'd remembered it was a possibility.

But lying still meant her mind had nothing else to keep it busy, and the memories she tried desperately not to think of played like a video on a loop in her mind's eye.

Thoughts of a long soak in the tub to relax her overused muscles fled as she reluctantly eased herself up and out, wrapping the softest towel she owned around her. She savoured the fluffiness of the towel, the comfortable warmth of the bathroom as she slowly dressed in cotton pyjamas.

She padded barefoot through her house. She was home, but it felt like there was something missing. The last time she'd felt so uncomfortable in her own surroundings was when she'd had Jolinar in her head and had to watch through her own eyes as the Tok'ra touched her belongings and wondered at the human she'd come to inhabit.

The memory of that made her shudder, and she wound her arms around her middle. She stood at the window, her gaze distant as she looked at but didn't see the small back yard she used to love.

Home didn't feel like home anymore, and she wondered how long it would be before it did.

#


	2. Chapter 2

#

He hated himself for leaving without seeking her out, but as he nursed his third bottle of beer, he realised he wouldn't have known what to say if he had sought her on the base.

What could you say to the woman you loved but couldn't be with?

To a woman whose career you may have unintentionally ruined?

To the woman you're beginning to think you'd be willing to give up everything for.

Jack had known before the mission that he would willingly die for her; he knew it, she knew it. Doc Fraser and that Goddamn Tok'ra knew it.

He hadn't realised that he would live for her, too.

At times, being in the plant had been unbearable. He'd been starved, exhausted, dirty. He'd been too hot during the day, too cold at night. The mindless activity of working every day doing the same thing and getting very little back from it had driven him to despair.

And then he'd seen her.

Carter. Thera. Sam.

He'd known at first sight that there was something about her, something that drove him to be close to her. He'd swapped his uncomfortable at the edge of the sleeping quarters with the worker who had been assigned to sleep next to her, not caring that it was a thinner, lumpier mattress and further away from the warmth of the generators.

It was closer to her, and that was all that mattered.

After what felt like a lifetime but was in reality just a few days, he'd won her trust and remembered the first time she'd bestowed that smile on him. The smile he knew now was Carter's smile, one usually reserved just for him.

They'd been inseparable since then, and their closeness had grown steadily, their relationship shifting from co-workers and friends into something more without much effort on either part.

He knew why now; it was easy to fall in love with someone you were already in love with. Easier still when you couldn't remember that you weren't supposed to.

Thera's use of 'Sir' had given him a jolt, but he hadn't remembered why he hated the word so much. He'd gladly forgotten about it, pushed it aside as best he could though the word kept nagging at his subconscious and then they were standing there, in Brenna's office.

Major and Colonel.

Carter and Sir.

There was no place for Thera and Jonah at the SGC. Hell, there was no place for Sam and Jack, either.

And that was what he was struggling with most.

#

After the fourth or fifth beer, Jack had felt himself dozing off. He snorted at himself for being a lightweight – weeks of not drinking would do that – and pushed himself up off the sofa with the intention of going to bed. He doubted he'd find the oblivion he sought in slumber but it was worth a shot.

It was when he turned off the TV he'd had on low and walked passed the front door that he heard it.

The sound of someone on his porch.

Not only that, the sound of someone crying – or trying not to cry.

Instinct told him who it was, or maybe it was his heart telling him who he hoped it would be. Jack swung the door open and saw her familiar form sitting on the top step. Her back was to him, her arms wrapped around her body, but the curve of her neck and the blond hair glowing in the light of the porch was unmistakably Sam.

Carter.

His 2IC.

He quickly quashed that thought, not giving a damn about regulations in the face of her distress.

"Carter." Crouching beside her, he spoke her name softly as he set his hand on her shoulder. The last thing he wanted to do was startle her.

"Sir." Her voice was strained, her head dipped so he couldn't see her eyes but the tear tracks on her cheeks glinted in the dim light. "I'm sorry," she said falteringly. "I shouldn't have come. I should go –"

"Come inside, Sam. It's freezing out here." He tugged her to her feet, concerned by the lack of resistance. As she stood, he saw her feet were as bare as her arms and wasn't surprised her teeth were beginning to chatter and her skin under his hands felt like ice.

He led her into the living room, glad the fire was still emitting some heat even though he'd banked it before turning off the lights. She sat down on the sofa without protest, accepted the throw he wrapped around her shoulders and all the time said nothing.

Trusting she'd stay where he left her, Jack ventured quickly to the kitchen to fix them both a drink. It was too late for coffee but he needed to get something warm into her, something sweet. He recognised the signs of shock when he saw them and hoped a call to Doc Fraiser wouldn't be necessary.

The two cups of cocoa he made were put on the table in front of the sofa. Sam didn't acknowledge them, though she turned her head to look at him when he sat down beside her.

For a moment, his breath caught in his throat.

It was definitely Sam looking at him, Sam and Thera.

His Major and 2IC would never let him see such emotion in her eyes.

His heart clenched at the pain in her face, pain he knew was reflected back at her in his own expression. He clenched his hands, resisting for a moment, but gave in when her eyes continued to shimmer and almost plead with him.

"Come here."

She moved willingly into his arms, the embrace foreign to Sam and Jack but familiar to the remnants of Thera and Jonah. He turned his face into her hair and closed his eyes, letting the soft strands of gold beneath his cheek take him back to another place, another time.

Somewhere they could be together.

He lost track of how much time passed, fighting off the exhaustion so he could be there for her in whatever way she needed. When he felt her weight more heavily against him and heard the deepening of her breath, he realised she was just as tired as he was. Loathe to risk waking her by moving, Jack told himself there was no harm in two co-workers, friends if you will, spending some quiet time together after a traumatic mission.

Even whilst knowing he couldn't fool himself into thinking that was all they were, he found himself losing the fight and slipped into slumber himself.

#

Waking up together was nothing new. In fact, it was achingly familiar.

At some point in the night, they'd shifted to lie spooned up on the sofa, and Sam found herself both wrapped in the throw Jack had put over her shoulders as well as his arms.

She didn't want to move.

She knew she had to, but she really didn't want to.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, his arms tightened around her middle as though she'd said it out loud.

"I don't know how to do this." She knew he was awake. She – Thera had learned how to tell the difference when Jonah was awake and when he was sleeping.

His voice was rough, his breath warm against the back of her neck. "How to do what?"

"Forget." Sam squeezed her eyes shut, willing the sting in them away. "I almost wish they could memory stamp us again."

Jack tensed behind her; she didn't need to see his face to picture the hurt in his brown eyes. "So you could forget what? What we had on the planet?"

"I don't know." Unable and unwilling to continue the conversation without being able to see him, Sam sat up, forcing him to do the same. She was glad of the throw still wrapped around her, glad it hid her hands as she clasped them together in her lap to keep from reaching out for him. She stared down at where they were, concealed by the brightly coloured material. "I don't want to, but it's hard, and I don't know if I can do it, Sir."

"There's that word again." His sigh was heavy, and she flinched when she realised what she'd said. "Sir."

"You can't be anything else," she said quietly, her throat aching with tears she refused to let break free. She'd cried enough in front of him, both as Sam and as Thera. She needed to find it in herself to be Major Carter again, to push the woman aside and be the soldier and scientist the Air Force paid her to be.

For several moments, there was silence. Sam eased the throw from her shoulders, knowing she had to leave before things got any more awkward. She told herself she just needed space. They both needed time, and they both needed to put a little distance – between themselves, and between the lives they'd left behind.

"Can't I?"

At first, she didn't register what he said. She'd been busy mentally preparing a goodbye, a brush off of sorts as she left. His words, so softly spoken she almost missed them, stopped her from standing. Curious, she glanced at him, her breath catching at the tender, almost hopeful expression on his face. "What do you mean?"

"We agreed..." Jack started, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. "To leave things in the room."

Sam swallowed. Hard. "We did."

He quirked an eyebrow, his gaze intent on her face. "So what if we changed the room?"

Confusion caused her brow to furrow. "Si—Jack?"

"I've got a big house, Carter." He shrugged, glancing away from her to look around the living room. She saw him swallow before he met her eyes again, nerves she wasn't accustomed to seeing playing across his face. "Plenty of rooms to leave stuff in."

Her heart began to race. She wanted to believe she understood what he was trying to say but... "And by leave stuff you mean..."

"What happens in these rooms stays in these rooms. No one else has to know." She was quiet for a long time, long enough for him to begin to doubt himself. It hadn't quite been a spur of the moment idea, but when he'd realised she was getting ready to leave, to put the wall back up between them, he'd panicked and felt like he had to do something. "Look, Carter, we don't –"

"No," she interrupted, her eyes bright and the beginnings of a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I mean, yes. Can we do that? Really?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "Well, it's not in the regulation manual but a room here is better than a room on base, right?"

"And we're... we're okay with that?" She asked, remembering what he'd asked her what felt like a lifetime ago.

The grin that caused his lips to twitch was hopeful, boyish, and caused a fluttering in her stomach. "I'm okay with it if you are." There was a note of seriousness to his voice, the unspoken question in his eyes reminding her that of the two of them, she had the most to lose.

After a long moment, her smile grew to match his. "I'm sure."

#

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this ending, but Sam and Jack decided to go in a completely different direction to what I was expecting and I didn't know how far to take it/how much to show. Sorry!


End file.
